


The Importance of Family

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, Grief, Johnlock - Freeform, Loss, M/M, No Major Character Death, Protective Big Brother Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 16:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11832783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: Sherlock gets some terrible news when Mycroft picks him up from school





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Pops, my well missed grandad. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Beta read by Sherlockian4evr

Sherlock paced up and down the back of the classroom. Detention was dragging on as usual, the teacher nowhere in sight.

When the door opened he didn't even bother heading to his seat, he was too far away to get out of any extra trouble. But rather than the teacher coming back, it was Mrs. Hudson, his parent's maid and she was with the headmaster.

“Holmes, come with me. Collect your things.”

Sherlock scowled at the elderly man, he despised doing as he was told, but the presence of Mrs. Hudson was odd. He looked closer and realised she had recently been crying.

“Come on, Sherlock, dear. Please.”

The boy might have been able to ignore his headmaster, but Mrs. Hudson was not a woman he could avoid obeying. Ever.

Once he'd gathered his jacket and bag, he followed them out into the hallway when the maid wrapped her arms around him.

“Mrs. Hudson, what is it?” He asked.

Despite his age, he was incredibly tall and she struggled to hold him as she sniffed to herself.

“Is there somewhere private we can go, sir?”

The headmaster's eyes widened and then nodded quickly. He had an odd look on his face, one Sherlock couldn't quite understand.

“Of course, Holmes. Sherlock.” He inclined his head and raised his hand in the direction of a room a few doors along. A room Sherlock recognised as the old language lab.

The way Mrs. Hudson clung to him was concerning.

“Are you ok from here, Mrs. Hudson?”

The maid nodded once. “Of course.” As the headmaster left, she pointed at one of the chairs. “Sherlock, take a seat.”

“Mrs. Hudson?”

She led him by the arm and pushed him into the nearest chair.

“I'm so sorry, dear. I've got some terrible news.”

The door opened and his older brother walked in.

“Mycroft,” Sherlock spat. “What do you want?”

“Please, little brother. Not now.”

That was when Sherlock noticed it, the slightly red rimmed eyes, the way he was holding himself, something wasn't right and the boy merely frowned. “What's going on?” He hated the fact he could not deduce anything that was happening, nor why.

Mrs. Hudson glanced at the older Holmes and burst into tears. It was clear she wouldn't be able to tell Sherlock what he needed to know.

“Sherlock, its Mummy... it all happened so quick, she-” before Mycroft could finish his sentence, Sherlock had got to his feet, kicking his chair back and taken off towards the open window. He vaulted the low wall and launched himself through the gap in the glass, taking off across the courtyard as fast as his legs would propel him.

***

John Watson looked up from his desk in shock when his bedroom door nearly flew off its hinges as someone put their shoe through it.

“Sherlock? Babe, what is it?” He asked, abandoning the medical text he had been reading in favour of turning his attention to his boyfriend.

Sherlock charged into John's chest, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around him.

“Sherlock, please tell me what's wrong.” He let his hand drop into the kneeling boy's untamed curls.

When there was no explanation forth coming, he sat back on the bed and tried to encourage the younger boy up beside him. After a long while he managed it, but still Sherlock turned into his side.

The soon to be doctor had no idea of the cause of his boyfriend's distress until he saw Sherlock's family maid at the door, shortly followed by the older Holmes. He knew both fairly well.

“Mycroft? What's happened?”

Mycroft nearly broke down in tears again at the mere sight of his brother so undone beside the blond boy but he managed to control himself.

“Mummy... she got in an accident. We need to go.”

“Father...”

“He was in the car, but he is ok. Lock, we really need to go.”

Sherlock's head snapped up. “You haven't called me Lock in years.”

“You punched me the last time I did that.”

The younger Holmes managed a small smile at that. It felt crazy he could still smile in the face of what he now knew.

“Mrs. Hudson, could you pack up my baby brother's stuff? It is high time we were off.”

“And mine,” John added. “I'm coming too.”

“John, school-”

“School will wait. You come first.” The blond boy pecked Sherlock on the temple, then glanced up at Mycroft. “I'm coming. You won't stop me.”

The minor government official inclined his head. “Of course, John. Come on then, my car is out the front.”

Sherlock wasn't surprised to see a driver already in Mycroft's car, he was sat with the engine running, ready.

“Mr. Holmes.” Gerry got out of the car to let the boys in.

Sherlock ignored him and John just offered a small smile.

The drive to the hospital was in silence, but it was amicable as much as possible. Sherlock stayed curled into John's side and Mycroft couldn't help but feel bad for his baby brother. They had suddenly lost their mum young... but Sherlock was only 15. He was technically still a child.

When they reached the hospital, Sherlock went straight to his dad who was waiting at the door.

“Dad, I don't-”

“Shh.” He held Sherlock close and glanced at his eldest over his head.

Mycroft had his hand on John's shoulder.

“Thank you for coming, John,” Mr. Holmes said when Sherlock finally let him go and grabbed the trainee doctor instead.

“Of course, Mr. Holmes.” It was only the fact he knew his boyfriend's parents so well that he didn't say the 'normal' sorry for your loss crap. Sherlock nor Mycroft wouldn't want to hear it, and Mr. Holmes certainly didn't.

“C'mon, little brother. You can see her if you like.”

“Have you?”

Mycroft sniffed slightly, then shook his head. “No. I came straight to get you.”

Sherlock frowned and glanced at John.

“You don't have to,” he said taking his hand. “It might help.”

“Did it help you?”

John closed his eyes then he nodded. “But Mum made me see him, babe. I didn't have the choice.”

Slowly, Sherlock inclined his head and began to follow his dad and his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright Lock?”

Sherlock's red rimmed eyes glanced up at him from where he sat on John's lap.

Mycroft reached down and ruffled his brother's untamely curls. He was most surprised when he didn't get a glare in his attempt to distract him. All Sherlock seemed to do was push his head into it.

The minor government official met John's eyes and smiled softly.

“Mrs. Hudson's made cake, Sherlock,” Siger said coming into the room. He hoped for some form of reaction.

The youngest Holmes didn't respond until John patted his arse. “Get up, babe.”

“No.”

“Go on. I can't leave Mrs. Hudson's cake in there untouched.”

“Yes, you can.”

The blond boy tickled Sherlock's belly under his shirt until eventually he jumped up, then he grabbed his hand and tugged the taller boy out of the room towards the kitchen. The kitchen was John's favourite place, Sherlock always said.

When they reached the kitchen Mrs. Hudson wrapped her arms around the curly haired boy, before he could even step into the room properly. “If you get much taller, lad, I'll be needing a stool to hug you.”

“You could always hug John,” he retorted. “No stool required.”

They blond boy couldn't resist clocking him on the back of the head. Rather than rebuke him, the maid laughed. “You've got a good one here, Sherlock dear.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hudson, you've said that before.” This time it was her who clocked him on the back of the head.

John laughed.

The best part of the shenanigans was the fact Sherlock not only knew he deserved it, he seemed to like it too.

“I will have an apology before you get cake, young man.”

This time, John turned his back and snorted.

Sherlock's mouth opened and shut several times, then he closed it again wth a snap of his teeth.

“Sherlock...” The maid stepped forward and raised her hand again.

“Sorry, Mrs. Hudson,” he said quickly.

She grabbed him again, wrapping her arms around him. “See, you can be a good boy.” She held him tight, knowing it would be more appreciated this time.

This time, Sherlock relaxed into the hug. The maid was the size of his mother, it was all too similar. His depressing thoughts were interrupted when he spotted his boyfriend cutting a chunk of cake out and nipping into the corridor with it.

“John!” Mrs. Hudson yelled as she let Sherlock go. The younger boy ran out after the blond, sniggering the whole time.

***

John had gone upstairs for a shower after Sherlock had insisted he would be fine on his own for a while. But he wasn't. Every moment since Sherlock had found out about his mum 2 days ago he had been with John.

He wandered into the front room and paused at the door.

Siger was sat in his arm chair. Mycroft was on his knees beside him, his head buried in his father's lap, facing away from the door. When he noticed Sherlock had come in, he scrambled to his feet and went to the window, rubbing at his face as he did.

“Myc...” Sherlock trailed off and watched his brother for a moment. When the older boy sobbed, he ran to him and held onto him tightly, something he hadn't done with Mycroft since he had gone to Eton.

In his armchair, Siger smiled a sad smile. At least his boys were allowing themselves to grieve in one another's presence. His eldest hugging him the way he had been seconds ago was almost too much for him to cope with. Despite the awkward social skills of both his boys, they had both been very close to their mother as they were to him. It was no surprise the way the pair were reacting. He found himself realising that, despite the circumstances, he was incredibly lucky that both his sons were in relationships with boys that seemed to love them as much as he did.

“Mrs. Hudson,” Siger called out.

It was a few moments, but the elderly woman appeared at the door. “Yes, Mr. Holmes?”

“Could you stick the kettle on please?”

“Of course.” She nodded her head once and then caught sight of the boys. They were still holding each other tightly and her smile was similar to that of Siger's moments before. It was such an unusual sight these days. It had been much more frequent before Sherlock had grown up and gone to school. If she was honest, she missed those days, but kids grow up, Holmeses more than most. She'd watched Siger do the same thing.

“Join us?” The eldest Holmes asked when Mrs. Hudson came back in with the tray.

She glanced at the boys who were talking quietly to each other in the corner. “Of course.” She settled on the sofa, leaving Violet's chair empty.

“Boys, come and sit down.”

Slowly, the two of them crossed the room.

“I'd better check on John. Knowing him, he's hiding.”

When he reached the bathroom, the shower was still running. He knocked on the bathroom door. “John?”

There was a pause, a scuffle, then a quiet “Yeah?”

“You ok?”

The younger boy waited a moment, then the shower turned off and the door opened. John stood there, naked, not even a towel wrapped around him. His face was red, but it seemed from tears rather than the heat of the shower.

Sherlock stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. He knew he was thinking about his dad. He also knew that the main thing John had done to him over the last few days had been to hug him. That must have been the right thing to do.

He held him for a long while until eventually the blond began shivering in his arms.

“Babe, I think we should find you some clothes.”

Slowly, John nodded into his shoulder and allowed him to lead him out into the bedroom they shared. It wasn't Sherlock's usual childhood bedroom, this one had a double bed. On any other occasion, his father wouldn't have let them share a room at his age, but with Mycroft's help he had conceded the leniency was needed. The youngest Holmes needed the emotional support that only John seemed to be able to provide.

Sherlock made a point to help dress the want-to-be doctor and pulled his jumper over his head with a pop. He pressed his lips to John's and took him by the hand, leading him to the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock stared at all the people gathered around the room. He barely recognised any of them and he couldn’t believe what he was thinking, but he wanted to be at school. There it was normal, there he understood what was happening. Here, all these people that he hadn’t seen since he was a kid were making out they cared. That they were ‘deeply sorry for their loss’. They weren’t. They were vultures. All of them.

He dumped his glass down on the windowsill and went in search of his brother, instead he found Greg. “Where’s Mycroft?”

The older boy shrugged. “Dunno. He went upstairs about half an hour ago.”

“Why?”

“To find something, I was busy with your dad.”

Sherlock nodded once and headed off up the stairs. Finding something. Yeah right.

“Should I-” Greg tried.

“I’ll find him,” he called back over his shoulder.

He walked up the hall until he reached his parents’ room, then he pushed the door in. Mycroft was sat on the bed, staring at the spot on the floor in front of his feet.

Closing the door softly behind, Sherlock slunk across the room and settled beside his big brother. “Too much for you as well?”

Mycroft nodded once and sighed. “None of these people care. They only care if Mummy left them anything.”

“I don’t even know half of them.”

The older boy managed a slight smirk, “me neither. Father tried introducing a few of the more distant family members, but I don’t really care.”

Sherlock stared at Mycroft’s overly polished shoes. “Did she?”

“Did who what?”

The youngest Holmes flopped back and stared at the ceiling. “Did Mummy leave them anything?”

To Sherlock’s surprise, Mycroft fell back beside him, his feet dangling off the edge, then he laughed. “No. It went to father... well, technically it comes to us, but only when we’re both of age and only when neither are around anymore.”

“Why?” It wasn’t something Sherlock was particularly interested in. Money. It always seemed to cause more problems than it solved. But he would much rather have it all on principle than any of the vultures downstairs in their high priced suits and dresses.

“Everything is theirs rather than his/hers.”

“John was worried about school this morning. He didn’t say anything. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re not I take it?”

“It’s our final year, I know he’s concerned about his grades. And what his mum will say.”

“John stopped caring what his mum would say a long time ago, little brother.” He sat up and went to the window, looking out over the drab and dingy afternoon, it had been quite a day, the service had dragged out for far too long and now they had to deal with this. “What if I arrange some private tuition when you both get back to school?”

“Really?” It wasn’t something Sherlock was keen on, he didn’t need the help nor want it, but he’d do it for John.

“Of course, shouldn’t be a problem. Father certainly won’t see an issue with it.” Mycroft turned from the window. “We should go back downstairs.”

Sherlock shook his head, “can’t we get John and Greg up here and just hide out?”

“No. We should support Dad. He hates this bollocks as much as we do.”

“Why arrange this then?”

Mycroft headed to the door. “It had to be seen to be done, little brother. It’s the grown up thing to do.” With that he was gone.

Feeling heavily put upon, the youngest Holmes got to his feet and headed down the stairs after his brother. John grabbed him in a hug. “Hiding away?”

Sherlock spotted Mycroft with the training copper across the room. “No. But family’s important. Close family,” he amended, watching him for a moment before John grabbed his face in his hands and pressed his lips to his.

“Yes, babe. Yes it is.”


End file.
